A Musical Interlude

As some of you know, in a previous life I spent over 17 years as a professional trombonist with a society/club-date band in New York City.  I had a day job, but the gigs served as equal parts hobby and therapy... and had the added benefit of helping to pay off the extortion tuition for our kid's private school.

Since I've been riffing on a lot of political, cultural and 'local' topics lately, I decided that for a change of pace I'd share a story from my musical past that never fails to make me giggle whenever I think of it.

The setting was a fancy-shmancy wedding at one of New york City's more elegant hotel ballrooms.  The cream of New York Jewish society was there, and the band played a nice mix of secular and Jewish music throughout the evening.  In between the dance sets a string quartet performed soft classical selections while the rest of the band grabbed a drink and stretched their legs. 

However, the strings were only booked until 10:00PM, so during the last break of the evening one of the vocalists (I won't reveal what instrument he plays in order to protect his identity to those in the know), remained on the bandstand to do a couple of soft numbers while the guests enjoyed their dessert.

Now, in this situation a musician/soloist has a choice.  He can play something pleasant but un-intrusive that the guests will enjoy without really having to actively take note... or he can attempt to grab the spotlight and put on a mini-concert.   

In my experience as a bandleader, the right move in that situation would have been to go the 'pleasant/un-intrusive' route, using the music to add 'atmosphere' without forcing the guest's attention away from their table conversations and Crème Brûlée.

However, this musician/vocalist decided to go the other way and proceeded to belt out a short medley of Israeli songs that would have been more at home in a concert setting than during dessert in a hotel ballroom.

With each key change/segue the vocalist seemed to ratchet up the volume and 'charisma' in a transparent bid for the guest's attention.  But the moneyed New York crowd was simply not going to be distracted from their mingling and postprandial drinks.

The vocalist went into his big finale, hammering out the coda for good effect and finally finished with a professional flourish. 

There was a tiny smattering of polite applause (what I like to call 'golf claps') from here and there, but for the most part the guests had remained impervious to the musician's impassioned efforts.  As I watched from the side of the ballroom, the vocalist made a big show of rearranging his music so as not to acknowledge the 'crickets' with which his mini-concert had been met.

But just then a guest stood up from a table near the back of the room and strode purposefully across the dance floor towards the bandstand.  I watched as the guest said a pleasant hello to the vocalist and asked him for his business card.

For those of you who have never been in 'show biz', having a guest ask for a card after a set is some serious validation.  The guest may never book you... but at that moment in time, he/she thought enough of your performance to come up and find out who you are.

The 'dénouement' of the story came a moment later as I watched this guest walk away from the bandstand, across the large, empty dance floor...  using this newly acquired business card to pick a stubborn bit of dinner from between his teeth.

Ouch!